


Stay

by wildeisms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (although no sex goes down), (but sex is mentioned), Emotional Vulnerability, Explicit Consent, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, It's not real but it's still content so warning you here, Liminal spaces are made for confessions, Nightmare Abuse, Nightmare Transphobia, Nightmares, No Sex Only Cuddles, Other, Psychological Trauma, Respectful Use of Psychic Powers, Soft Frostmaster, genderqueer Loki, so much cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 00:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17192894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildeisms/pseuds/wildeisms
Summary: Plagued by bad dreams, Loki wakes in the middle of the night to an unexpected visitor





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> No one asked for this but I'm a slut for soft Frostmaster. 
> 
> Insert the John Mulaney version of the Drake meme here, with no to 'dubcon Frostmaster' and then yes to 'soft Frostmaster' and that's my big mood of the whole year.
> 
> ...It's 3:16AM now I'm finally posting this and these notes really show that huh

_ “You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain.” _

_ But it was his brother’s voice, not that of Thanos’s servant, that filled his ears. Loki lifted his head and found himself on the floor of his - no, never his, always Odin’s - throne room, kneeling before his father.  _

_ “Father,” Loki whispered, his voice coming out pitifully broken. _

_ “Enough, you pathetic child,” Odin said and Loki fell silent as if he’d been gagged. He tried to stand, but he couldn’t move. “I should have left you to perish where I found you. By Asgardian or Jotun standards, you’re worthless. A shame on this family. When will you finally die?” _

_ Loki could feel the tears running down his cheeks already. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t help himself. “Father, please. I’m sorry.” _

_ “Save your breath. You are not fit to be a Prince, let alone a King. And not fit to be a man, or a woman either.” Odin walked towards him with echoing footsteps, stopping only a foot from Loki’s kneeling form. “What are you, Loki? What kind of being takes the kind of form you take, hmm? I’d strip you naked in front of my subjects and let them see just what you are if I didn’t know you’d enjoy that. Vile creature.” _

_ He slapped Loki hard across the face and Loki cried out, the pain far stronger than any slap ought to be. A familiar laugh from the corner made Loki turn and his face burned with shame as well as pain when he realised it was Thor. _

_ “He’s right, you know,” his brother said. “If Thanos’s army had known what you are, they wouldn’t have even considered giving you Midgard.” _

_ “And yet it couldn’t manage to take Midgard even with their help. How inept must one be, hmm? Through me, through Thanos, it still can’t succeed,” Odin sneered.  _

_ ‘It’. He was not wedded to being ‘he’ - sometimes he was ‘she’ and though he rarely preferred it above all other options, he was always quite happy to be ‘they’. But ‘it’? ‘It’ was a freak, a being lower than a dog. ‘It’ was what he deserved to be. He lowered his head, hair hiding his tears. _

_ “Shall we throw it back to Thanos and see how he’ll punish such a useless, worthless creature?” _

_ “No,” Loki gasped, his head shooting up, eyes wide in alarm. “Don’t, Father, please!” _

_ “Silence! You are not my child and not worthy to call me your father. You disgust me, Frost Giant. It is my greatest regret that I ever let you live.” _

_ “You should kill him now, Father. I’ll be glad to see him gone,” Thor said and Loki wailed pitifully. He felt like a child, only he couldn’t cling to his mother anymore. She was gone and there was no one to save him.  _

_ “I’m sorry, please don’t,” Loki begged. He could do nothing else. He couldn’t stand, couldn’t scream, couldn’t summon even the smallest amount of magic. If Odin decided to end him, he would be entirely defenceless.  _

“Hey, hey, Loki, honey!” 

Loki opened his eyes to find himself curled up on soft sheets in a dimly lit room, his body trembling and his pillow wet with tears. He faced away from the door, but he could see the shadow in the doorway on the wall, light from the corridor outside shining in onto his shaking form. The light disappeared as the door closed, leaving only the faint glow of a night light Loki used to sleep. Complete darkness, ever since falling through the void of space, was far too frightening.

“I didn’t mean to hear, I just- Well, your mind’s so loud, I couldn’t not get the, er, general impression, y’know?” the Grandmaster said. “I thought I’d better come check up on you.”

Loki felt the bed dip slightly as he sat down beside him, but didn’t turn over. He didn’t want the Grandmaster to see him like this, although he knew logically it was too late.

“I gotta say, I, er… Like I said, I didn’t get the specifics, but I do know what it’s like to be real sad and real scared. I’ve lived a long life, it’s all happened. So if you wanna talk…” 

“I don’t,” Loki said, his voice coming out dreadfully choked up. He felt a hand brush his hair from his face and fingers run through it, gentle as one would be with a spooked animal.

“That’s okay. Hey, I’m not even gonna look, and you know I could. I could see all kinds of stuff if I wanted, but I don’t. Not don’t want to, just don’t. It’s better when people tell me themselves, y’know? More trusting. Makes for stronger connections and- and happier people. And really, Sakaar is filled with happy. People are- They’re found here. They have a purpose, they have structure, they have some real fun parties. Sakaar’s not for the bad stuff. Unless you think my-my parties are bad, and I guess some people do. They don’t- uh, last here, though. They don’t make the rules, after all.” It seemed that the Grandmaster was just talking for the sake of it, but at least Loki didn’t have to fill the silence. And if, perhaps, he sniffled a little as he fought to control his tears, it wasn’t as obvious or as audible as it could have been had there been no sound to cover it.

The bed shifted and Loki felt an arm drape over his middle, a body pressing gently against his back like a shield. He let out a choked sob and hid his face in his hands, the shame coursing through his veins. How could he be so pathetic as to cry over a simple embrace, even if it had been so very long since he’d last been held? And why, of all people, did the Grandmaster have to be the one to see him like this?

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” the Grandmaster murmured, the heat of his breath on Loki’s naturally cool skin making him shiver. “I’m not- not saying you’re beautiful when you cry- you are, but only as in- as in you’re beautiful all the time. And not just to cheer you up, either. You really are. And… And I wouldn’t come to just anyone in the middle of the night like this.”

Loki laughed humorlessly and wiped his face. Of course. There was a price to everything, and if Loki wanted to be comforted, he’d need to give the Grandmaster something to make it worth his time. Vulnerability was, to many, an aphrodisiac worth taking advantage of. And if the Grandmaster had some telepathic talent that had invaded his dreams, he would know Loki was just full of it. “If you want to fuck me, get on with it. You needn’t waste your time trying to make me pliable.”

“You- you- you- No, I’m not gonna- You really think that’s why I’m here?” the Grandmaster asked. He sounded hurt, offended even, by the suggestion. “No. I’m just here to make sure you’re okay.”

“Does it matter?” Loki said, a note of bitterness in his voice.

“To me, it does.”

“Why?” Loki asked. He had meant it to sound harsh, arrogant even, but he just sounded broken. 

The Grandmaster sighed. “Someone’s really done a number on you, huh?”

Loki said nothing. He thought of every other time he had been showed such gentleness, the rarity of it, and how he had lost or ruined every relationship that had led to it. His mother was dead, Thor hated him, and the number of partners he’d had who were gentle with him was deliberately small. On those rare occasions, often in a form designed for anonymity, there were no repeat performances and no attachments formed. He had no one who wanted to show him care, particularly not as himself. Even now, after his insistence that they weren’t going to have sex, Loki couldn’t help wonder if the Grandmaster had some sort of ulterior motive. The Grandmaster had no cause to be kind to him without reason.

“Oh, sweetness,” the Grandmaster murmured, pulling him even closer into a tight embrace. “I’m- I’m not looking, but geez, I can  _ feel _ that. You’re hurting so much…” 

Loki shifted in the Grandmaster’s arms, turning around to accept the embrace and tuck himself against the Grandmaster’s chest, his head under the Grandmaster’s chin. He radiated heat like a welcoming fire and stroked Loki’s back to comfort him in a way that was all too reminiscent of the way his mother would soothe him when he’d had nightmares as a child.

“I’ve got you, honey,” the Grandmaster murmured. “You’re okay, I’m not going to do anything to you you don’t want and no one’s gonna hurt you here. I’d have them executed if they tried, and that’s a promise.”

Loki giggled, although it came out a little hysterical, and held onto the lapels of the Grandmaster’s robe like he’d held onto his mother all those years ago as he fought back the control, soothing himself as best he could until his tears stopped falling. He didn’t understand this man. He was completely ridiculous but had so much power and experience, was a complete hedonist and yet seemed to be selflessly caring for him. It was all very confusing, and Loki had no idea how to handle it. If he was a purely logical being, he would want to stay far away from such a potentially dangerous man. But he wasn’t and he couldn’t. The Grandmaster was just too fascinating, too magnetically charismatic, and showing him too much kindness.

He was getting attached and that was dangerous in itself. 

“Nothing’s gonna harm you, not while I’m around. Nothing’s gonna harm you, no sir, not while I’m around,” the Grandmaster sang softly to a tune Loki didn’t recognise. Despite everything, he felt a faint smile tug at his lips.

“When I was a child, my mother used to sing to me when I couldn’t sleep,” he murmured. He didn’t know why he was telling the Grandmaster this. Being vulnerable, sharing his emotions, it was all so much more than he would ever usually share. But it seemed somehow like the right thing to do.

“Do you remember the songs?”

“I do, although I fear they wouldn’t translate as beautifully into any other language than my own.”

“Let me hear them anyway? I can hear past that nifty little translation thing you’ve got going on, if I concentrate.”

Of course he could. As much as Loki liked to think he was perceptive, the Grandmaster remained a mystery. The extent of his powers, his true motivations, none of it was clear. But he wanted Loki to sing and so, without question, Loki sang for him in a low, soft voice.

“ Ask veit ek standa, heitir Yggdrasill, hár baðmr, ausinn hvíta auri; þaðan koma döggvar, þærs í dala falla; stendr æ yfir grœnn, Urðar brunni.”

It wasn’t quite as lovely as was in his mother’s voice, but the comfort of it was still there, as if the words were an incantation that made his shoulders drop and a sense of calm wash over him, despite everything.

“Rigg-dra-sick, the heck is that, hmm?” the Grandmaster repeated, his pronunciation making Loki cringe internally. 

“ _ Yggdrasill _ is a tree,” Loki said, enunciating the word carefully. “Well, it’s a tree in the song, but it’s not a literal tree. It’s more… it’s the cosmic energy that connects the nine realms, like the branches of an ancient tree, spreading out from the same roots.”

“When you’ve been around as long as I have, it’s not- not often you get to learn new things. But you’re just… just fascinating,” the Grandmaster murmured.

“Will you return the favour?” Loki asked, shifting so that he could look the Grandmaster in the eyes.

“Hmm?”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

The Grandmaster considered him for a moment. “I can tell you something hardly anyone alive knows, sweetness. Everyone calls me the Grandmaster, but my name, my actual name, is En. En Dwi Gast.”

He didn’t know why the Grandmaster - why En - had chosen to hide his name, although he suspected there was good reason. Certain kinds of magic drew such power from names, and to hide them behind a title or pseudonym was a form of protection. Some people found their given name failed to fit. And sometimes people just wanted to get away from their past. He understood that feeling well. “Thank you for your trust, En Dwi Gast,” Loki murmured.

“You… you don’t trust people easily, huh?” En asked, and even in the dim light, Loki could see him assessing him. 

“I suppose I don’t. But enough experience has given me reason to be cautious.”

En shifted to stroke Loki’s cheek gently. “Are those experiences what give you nightmares?”

“They are… part of it,” Loki said eventually. To explain, to put it all in words, would be going too far. But there was something about this liminal space, the darkened bedroom surrounded by silence and warmth in the comfort of En’s arms, that made Loki feel less guarded than he usually would. He felt… safe. “I have been both betrayer and betrayed, liar and lied to, countless times. Can anyone fully trust after that?”

“I’m managing to find some, uh, some trust still there.”

Loki didn’t know what to say to that. Of course, in En’s long life, he would have experienced plenty of both. Yet a bitter part of him wondered if En had ever experienced the extent of the suffering that he had, the physical and emotional pain. 

“Go back to sleep, Loki,” En murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Loki’s forehead. “Trust me not to hurt you while you’re out.”

“Do you intend to stay?” Loki asked.

“I’d like to, but I’ll- I’ll go if you tell me to.”

“Will you intrude on my dreams?”

“Not on purpose.”

Loki considered this. He should be terrified, mortified at the prospect of sleeping next to someone who knew too much of his vulnerability, who may see what the deepest and most repressed parts of Loki’s mind had to show him. But he wasn’t. 

“Stay,” Loki said eventually, settling back into the bed against the heat of En’s torso. He was like a giant hot water bottle, radiating warmth and comfort. And despite his pride, Loki allowed himself to settle down into En’s embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs referenced:  
> [The Grandmaster's song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVzKowZeDg8)  
> [Loki's song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BPILaMT50k)  
> This is actually not 100% traditionally a song, but a part of Völuspá in the Poetic Edda. However, as so much Classical-with-a-capital-C poetry was sung, it's not a leap to assume similar for Norse poetry. A translation for those interested can be found [here (the 19th stanza)](https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Poetic_Edda/V%C3%B6lusp%C3%A1)
> 
> Leave a comment of things you want me to write, there's only about a 20% chance I'll actually do it because I'm the Worst Author(TM), but still. Also feel free to point out any typos I may have missed.


End file.
